Phantom & Rose
by Xiphos76
Summary: Clockwork and the Observants knew what would happen. He would become a halfa and unintentionally kill his friends and family and become an evil greater than Pariah Dark. But he didn't. Instead he died, along with his beloved. They'd have to watch what this ghost would turn into. Him and his lover. Phantom and Rose.
1. Chapter 1

**Ch. 1**

* * *

Amity Park.

The moon casted a silver light over the city. Stars twinkled lively in the dark blanket that was the night sky. Lights of the city flash upward into the atmosphere. Near the edge of town was a cemetery.

A warm cool breeze blew, rustling and ruffling the leaves of the trees and grass field. The dark aura of the location made it seem dark and spooky, as how some of the citizens described the graveyard. The gravestones were calm and still. The dead were calmly sleeping in their caskets, hoping not to be disturbed.

Two figures stood above—midair—a gravestone.

 _Samantha Manson_

 _Daughter. Friend. Lover._

 _R.I.P._

The shorter was, no doubt, a female. Her height reached about 5'7". She was slender, with her frame being curvy and voluptuous. The female wore a strapless, purple crop top under a leather jacket. Her cleavage was something guys had a tough time taking their eyes away from. It showed her toned, taut midriff. Her black jeans—that accentuated her thighs and haunches—were tucked in her black combat boots. A green, thorn–filled vine was snaked around right hand.

Her hair was black and waist length, with a small ponytail on the top and back of her back. Her skin was creamy white and silky smooth. It matched well with her black eyeliner and purple lipstick. Her entire eyes looked to be dipped in glowing green paint; they were glued to the gravestone.

Next to her was a male. He was tall—at least 6'1", with a fit, lean, muscular physique. He wore grey cargo pants with black boots. A black leather jacket was fitted over a white hoodie with a black fur trim. A small, spiked armband was cuffed around his right wrist. Three clip–on earrings were attached to his left earlobe.

His hair was snowy white, and looked to defy gravity—with it flowing upwards in a blaze of silvery white flames. It was long enough that it was pulled into a ponytail, that it—ironically—flowed downward, unlike the rest of his hair. His skin was a pale, light sky blue. His eyes were a glowing ruby red. He was pretty handsome to most females.

"Are you okay?" The male's voice was a deep baritone, and when he opened his mouth, sharp fangs were visible.

The female's green orbs didn't part with the stone, "I–I just can't believe it. I'm really… d–dead."

Muscular arms snaked around her waist. His chest was colder than room temperature. Though his cold skin didn't make her flinch away. His coldness was a sign they were really here—together. Something she didn't want to end.

"Was this how you felt after you… you know…"

He closed his eyes, "Pretty much, I was sad, confused, mostly lonely."

"Well, you don't have to worry about being lonely anymore," she leaned back against him with a small smile. He pressed his nose into a her ebony hair and inhaled her scent, "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

 **X**

The first time they met, it had been a very surprising moment. Her lunch was spilled on her in front of the whole school—inciting roars of laughter from the school body. Snapping back to reality from his daydreaming, he tried to help to her to her feet. After a fiery snap at him he developed an irritation from the gothic teen. Every occasion they crossed was a combination of snide comments, insults, and death glares.

Not too long afterwards, they were paired together for a project. Both were outraged by this. They begged the teacher to pair them with someone else, and when that failed they went to the principal. The teacher and principal stood their ground. Both kids were stuck together.

When doing the project the duo kept their distance to a minimum as possible, until it was time to do the project. As a team should. He would do the research and collect data, facts, and analysis. She would start on the project with whatever was collected.

During this project they both saw each other for what they truly were. Not just a gloomy, dark, tree–hugging, holier-than-thou, plant-eating, spoiled brat. Or a rebellious, weird, outcast whose ideologies drove people away.

He saw her as a beautiful woman whose compassion not only spread to humans, but to animals as well—anything with a face, as she put it. She didn't conform to mainstream adolescence. She forged her own life and mindset. She found beauty and love in the darkest of aspects. Instead of bright dreams of what could happen and optimism for the future, she was a cynical realist who saw things as they were. And he loved her that way.

She saw him as an innovator. A free–thinking, individualistic, free spirit. Instead of the mainstream, he pushed for individualism—like her! He wasn't dark like her, certainly not. He was just the black sheep who was glad for his abnormalities. Always preaching for anti–establishment, anti–authoritarianism, non–conformity, and free–thought. He always expressed it through his odd attire and appearance. He even expressed his ideals by vandalism. Graffiti art. Though sometimes he was arrested by the authorities, but it didn't deter his inner rebel, it only made it stronger. He was an enigmatic character she wanted to know.

That's when it happened. Their interest in one another turned to affection. And everyday, through their interaction, their love blossomed to greater heights. It was amazing when they started their relationship. Light and airy is what they felt. Racing heartbeats happened when the other smiled. Stolen kisses gave way to rising heat in the face.

Despite their budding romance it seemed like people wanted them apart. The school body made fun of them, mocked them, and laughed at them. But a few girls called them cute for there similarities, that was the plus side. Her wealthy parents didn't want their little girl to associate with a ruffian such as himself, especially with his crazy family. He always took this as compliment. His parents were, most of the time, were indisposed, so he could care less about what they felt about his love life.

But their romance was short–lived when he messed up. It had been a harmless prank. A joke for him, his girlfriend, and a few his punk and new gothic friends to laugh at. He displayed his art onto the cars of the school's popular and core groups of jocks and cheerleaders. They knew it was him since he always took credit for his work, like it was an honor.

They cornered him, backed him into a wall in the school's cafeteria when he decided to do some late–night artwork. They were all so much bigger and stronger than him, it almost unfair even if he went up against one of them. He tried to fight back, but they were too much for him. Even when he just started to gain some muscle.

After a severe beating, curtesy of Dash Baxter; quarterback for Casper High's football team, he decided to really drill into him not to mess with him again. A few of his lackeys weren't really up for it. But through intimidation and fear, he got them to back him up.

He was trapped in the school's walk–in freezer.

His screams of pleading and begging were heard on deaf ears. Some were nervous by how he tried to get out, like he was trapped in there with a wild, rabid animal. Their fear heightened to new levels when they _didn't_ _hear_ his pleads. They kept him locked there for twenty minutes before his voice silenced. After another ten minutes, for good measure, Dash decided to unlock him.

He was curled into fetal position. He only wore his white hoodie, leather jacket, and cargo pants. Dash kicked him in the back to make sure he was still breathing. He didn't move. Dash kicked him again. Still no movement. All the guys were starting to fear the worst. While turning him over, Dash noticed how cold his arms were.

His fingers, earlobes, and the tip of his nose were extremely white. A sign of frostbite. His eyes were closed in a tranquil sleep. Dash fearfully saw the lack of rising in his chest. He tentatively put his hand above the boy's face.

There was nothing. No sign of breath.

Out of panic he placed his ear against the boy's chest. Stillness. He checked his neck and wrist. Nothing but ice cold. Dash fell back on his butt and scrambled away from the corpse. All the guys were silent when they came to the conclusion.

Danny Fenton was dead. They had killed Danny Fenton.

His girlfriend was walking to school the next day when she saw police cars and an EMT truck was parked in front of her school. The school body bunched together at a good distance from the emt as it hauled away a body. Her group of punk and gothic friends were huddled together. Some had tear stains on their cheeks, they all had painfully sad expressions.

Looking at the EMT, she saw Danny's parents and older sister close to the truck. His mother and sister were balling and sobbing their eyes out. The mountain of a man that was Danny's father was the pillar of support they needed, but even he had devastated eyes, with a tear trickling down his cheek.

That's when she saw it.

The distinctive glint of light. The black leather, the two rows of studs. All of it was attached to the wrist. _His_ armband. The armband that he wouldn't part with if his life depended on it. The armband she saw every time she saw him. It was his. It was Danny's.

Her books and backpack fell to the ground in an echoing thump that gave way for a deafening silence.

There was no sniffling, no tears brimming to burst. Just a lavender gaze attached to that armband that her mind convinced her if she looked away she'd forget it.

Her friends tried to move her, but her body wouldn't budge. Her mind wasn't in control when she took a step. She walked away. There was no clear objective or path she took. Just walked and walked.

For weeks, she emotionless. She barely talked to anyone, and barely even ate sometimes. Her eyes, lavender and bright became shattered and distant. Everyday that passed was getting harder and harder. Her movements were sluggish and racked with fatigue. Living and breathing became a difficult task for her. For her, there was no light at the end of the tunnel. No guiding hand that pushed her towards better days. Just a dark void that got darker and darker.

Her friends and family tried to console her, but she wouldn't have any of it. She only wanted Danny back. She wanted to ruffle her hand through his ebony locks. She wanted his arms around her waist. She wanted to feel the mind–numbing taste of his lips. She wanted to see the twinkle in his icy blue eyes. She wanted to bask in the afterglow of their post–coitus.

She wanted all these things and more. But whatever god existed denied her her release.

She was in her walk–in bathroom after a cold shower. It was an attempt at trying to numb her pain. It did nothing to but make her cold. Looking down, she spotted the small flower pot near her mirror.

Angel's trumpet.

It was a gift from Danny. He had it shipped to her house for her birthday. It was beautiful and graceful, just like her, as Danny put it. He had gotten her more gifts, but she treasured this the most. Her eyes moistened when she remembered the way his arctic eyes lit up after seeing her million dollar smile.

Desperation took in.

Reaching into her medicine, she pulled out a moderately–sized bottle of codeine. She took a few glances between the bottle and her flower. Making a trip to the kitchen, she found a tablespoon and a glass cup. Back in her bathroom, she crushed and shredded one of flowers as best she and put into the cup. She poured all of the codeine in the cup and diluted it with tap water. With the spoon, she stirred it into viscous fluid.

There was no rational thought, no thought of the future. The only thing she comprehended was pain. A pain she desperately wanted to be rid of. She grabbed the plant and settled on the floor against the tub.

"I'm sorry, Danny, I couldn't be strong for you." She downed it, every drop of it.

She didn't think of her friends, her family, or her future. The only thing that was centered in her mind's eye was a crooked grin and twinkling blue eyes.

One to help her sleep, and the other to make sure she didn't wake up.

That's when it happened. Her heart stopped. Sam Manson had died. The flower was clutched to her chest, glass cup next to her, and head against the tub. She looked so peaceful. Her last thoughts were love–filled memories of her and her beloved.

 **X**

His body jerked upward with his eyes popping open. He looked around, noticing he was still in the walk–in freezer Dash and his goons locked him in. His latest memories were of him sitting down as it became so hard to breathe. The airtight freezer's oxygen was limited, so with every scream, every yell, every panicked breath depleted his air to the point where he needed to sit down.

Danny stood and noticed how cold it was. But the weird part was that he wasn't bothered by it. Like his body had gotten used cold temperatures.

He sighed, or at least tried to. He couldn't breathe. Every time he opened his mouth, there was no inhalation, no exhalation, just stillness. He gripped his chest in terror. His eyes widened. He felt nothing in his chest. No heartbeat, no sign of it. He checked the pulses of his neck and wrist. Nothing.

A new level of fear set in when he turned around. Danny was looking at himself, curled up in fetal position.

Backward steps backed him into on one the freezers. He turned to the door and saw his reflection. Flaming white hair, light blue skin, razor fangs, and glowing red eyes. The darkness of the room was lit by his flaming white hair and ruby colored eyes.

He heard the doors open, turning around, he saw Dash and his buddies check his body. He tried getting Dash's attention, though his voice was hoarse and raspy since he didn't breathe. He tried grabbing him, but arms went right through him like mist. He tried again and again, but with no success. Even tackling Dash didn't do anything.

Then the police and EMT came to claim his body. The school body showed up. His friends and his family came. All were invisible to his cries and pleas of attention.

That's when he saw her. His attempts with her failed. He tried for days to get her to respond. It didn't work, so he settled for shadowing her. Her guardian angel.

Months passed. And he was saddened by how she turned out. Sam's eyes shattered under the weight of his passing. Her voice became hollow, her movements turned sluggish. Her eyes couldn't produce anymore tears, so they became glassy. Every time he saw her visit his grave he saw her soul break even more. She looked like him. Dead.

He tried to coax her, to push her to move on. But his words were silence in her eyes. He feared about what would happen to her. And his fears were confirmed.

He screamed for her to stop. He yelled for her to reconsider. He did everything he could to deter from meeting him. He begged her to stop when he saw mix the petals of the flower and the codeine together. Danny sat directly in front of her with his sad red gaze on her. It never faltered when she downed the glass, when she spoke her last words to him, when she was drowsy, or when her eyes closed for good.

His beloved was gone. But not entirely.

For ten minutes he watched her sleep peacefully. That's when it happened. A weird aura in the form of smoke flew from her eyes, nose, and mouth. It became larger and materialized into her new ecto form. Her was in the same position next to her body.

Her eyes fluttered. She cutely yawned and stretched her arms above her head. Getting up, she saw herself and backed into the wall out of fear. Danny stood as their eyes locked. They didn't say anything, just a staring contest.

Sam tentatively and walked to Danny, before launching herself into his arms. They held on dear life. He wanted to be angry, to be furious and enraged. But her arms wrapped around his neck placated his fury, and so he settled for relief and joy that she was with. A small part of them both asked rational and inquisitive questions, but it was outweighed by the fact that they were in each other's embrace once again. Pleading to never be apart again.

* * *

 **First time for a Danny Phantom fanfic. This was always one of my favorite cartoon tv shows. I've never really found a really great DxS fic, so I decided upon myself to write one. Think of this as a teaser for future reference.**

 **I've always saw every ghost in the Phantom universe that died, died a death that attributed to their powers and personalities. Danny froze to death in a dark freezer. Cryokinesis and Umbrakinesis. Sam died from a poisonous flower. Chlorokinesis and Toxikinesis.**

 **Tell me what you all think. I literally cried writing this, so please, nothing but positivity.**


	2. Chapter 2

Silence suffocated the Fenton household. No parents down in the basement working on an invention, no intelligent daughter around, and certainly no son around.

Jazz sat in her brother's room, her aqua eyes trained on the picture of herself and her brother. Her pajama bottoms and tank top messily clothed her with her strawberry blonde hair disheveled. She sat on her sibling's bed; longing to be near the last remnants of her brother, admiring the portrait her brother still had since she first started middle school.

A middle school was in the background, and Jazz stood behind Danny with her arms around his neck. His big, crystal blue orbs were twinkling with the wide grin he sported. Even her aqua orbs looked at the camera with amusement.

Jasmine Fenton had heard the news; Dashiell Baxter had been released from police custody. A month and two weeks has passed since the police arrested the boy for "murder and attempted murder." But coming from a family with wealth, power, and influence, they'd do anything to keep their name away from a murder investigation. Even stepping on the grave of a seventeen-year-old kid.

Wet tears ran down her cheek, her little brother's death, no death, would go unpunished.

While Jazz sat and drowned in her tears, her mother drowned in something else. Maddison Fenton sat slouched at the kitchen table, a bottle half swallowed stared back at her. Her auburn locks were messily greasy, and lavender eyes were dull—lacking their usual motherly glow.

The matriarch of the Fenton family couldn't keep herself away from the bottle after her son's death. Even her obsession with hunting ghoulish spirits were halted when hearing her son's murderer was released. She concluded that his parents bribed or blackmailed a few of the cops in the Amity Park Police Department. What kind of person would allow someone's death go unjust just to protect their appearance?

But she didn't care anymore, her boy was taken from her and his killer walks free. Taking another swig of the bottle that eased her pain, she stumbled out of the kitchen. She became less sober when entering her bedroom.

Down in the basement Jack Fenton put in work against the bag. The muscle shirt that held his bulky frame was soaked with sweat from the intense rage he felt. Strike after strike, no matter how tired he got his rage wouldn't allow his body stop.

While dealing with the sadness of his second-born's death, despair quickly gave way to fury. Rage for the children that not only bullied but killed his boy. Rage for whatever god would allow the upstart to be released. And rage for the destruction of his family.

His strikes against the bag quickened, his eyes tightening when he felt a wave of new tears. He struck the bag continuously, despite the shaking of his arms The skin on his knuckles started bleeding.

Jack Fenton wasn't the most competent person but even the foundations of right and wrong. And a child's death, no matter the justification was always wrong.

The Fenton family was going through a tough time losing their youngest. The Manson family lost their youngest as well. Samantha Manson's death hit her family just as Danny's did his family.

Pamela, the girl's mother, wanted to be compensated by going after them. But that wasn't new for the people of Amity Park.

The Fentons and Mansons were rivals even before Danny and Sam's birth. Pamela certainly held harsh and elitist views of the Fentons. She genuinely viewed the Fentons' weird views and ways is the reason why they were low on the social spectrum. Especially their occupations that deal with the dead, which she has made clear to the world as "nothing more than a child's imagination gone unchecked."

Danny being a Fenton enough was the primary reason why she wouldn't allow her daughter to date him. The second being a social delinquent and a menace to the perfect society that she praised with his views and ways of looking at it and praises of rejection of it.

She tried to sue for the death of her daughter, but her husband reminded her that she couldn't get insured from the suicide of her daughter. Only pity, and pity wasn't going to bring back her daughter.

Danny and Sam's deaths were the trigger that set off so much pain, tension, and hatred. Eyes from beyond could only watch as the deaths of two lovebirds set off a war between crows.

Music played in an abandoned house; a beautiful and elegant sound. The house was a two-story with several rooms. The floorboards creaky and fragile, like a construction made of dust waiting to crumble. The furnishings were dusty and had cobwebs, and the atmosphere was dark and shadowy. But it didn't stop the music from playing beautifully soft.

In the living the room, a grand piano occupied the huge space. The grand piano looked new; ivory keys and a glossy body. On eye contact, the keys moved on their own, an invisible musician at work. But if one could see through the veil that separated the natural and supernatural, they'd see a young man.

Flaming white hair, pale blue skin, and pupil-less ruby eyes. He was tall and well-built, wearing a white hoodie underneath a black leather jacket and black cargo pants with boots.

His fingers played gracefully; a sound only true emotion could generate. After playing for a minute, Danny played the wrong key that disrupted the flow of the song. "Damn, how'd it again…"

Playing one more time, Danny noticed with his peripheral vision a swaying figure. The figure was feminine as it shimmered and materialized into a young woman. Glossy black hair with a ponytail tied at the top, pale milky skin, and eyes that—were also pupil-less—green lined with black eyeliner. A purple crop top, a leather jacket, black jeans, and heeled boots. A thorny vine snaking around her forearm, similar to a tattoo.

Danny smiled as he played more enthusiastically, the tempo becoming faster and more upbeat. Sam danced with more fervor, her movements made Danny's focus train on her; his fingers still flying across the keys.

Finally, after the musical duet, the two started laughing. Danny flew over to her and wrapped his arms before twirling them in the air, his legs turning into a long, translucent, misty tail. "Didn't you could dance like that."

"Parents always thought dance would help me become a proper 'lady'. And look who's talking, I never knew you could play piano." Sam's purple lips tugged into a smile.

Danny shrugged his shoulders, "In addition to going into space, I've always wanted to get into music. It's literally only one of the few talents I have, so when I found I had a knack for it, I kind of just fell into it."

"Well," Sam encouraged, "even if you're dead, you've got a skill for it."

Danny's pale face turned into a frown, his crimson eyes becoming sad. Sam frowned as well, understanding her boyfriend's feeling gloomy change of mood.

It had been two weeks since Sam's Death Day; the couple had started calling the days of their demises, Death Day. While Sam and Danny remembered who they were while they were alive, for some reason the memories they retained felt false and artificial.

The memories were fading, and the couple knew this. With each passing day their memories became harder to hold onto. It must be side effect of being dead, they speculated.

"You lost another, didn't you?" green eyes turned soft and affectionate. Red eyes became hard and distant, "My mom, Maddison is her name I think, I can't remember her face."

Sam watched as her boyfriend's hair lit up in an angry, white inferno; Danny's hair tended to reflect his emotions, an attribute of his dead status.

She rubbed Danny's shoulder, appeasing his temper. "Don't worry, at least you remember your mom, I can't remember mine at all."

Danny felt his anger become ice cold again, allowing his fiery hair to die down. Danny always guessed eventually they'd forget everything about their previous lives.

With a white-hot explosion, the room detonated. Sam felt Danny put himself in front of her, shielding her from whatever eruption. She wasn't worried, they were dead, and nothing on the mortal plane could hurt, but this felt different. Feeling the light die down, Sam's green eyes turned to center of the room, her jaw dropping.

A tearing in the very atmosphere that on the inside looked like a swirling vortex of black and green shadows. The entire house, became freezing cold, and it wasn't from Danny. Whispering voices leaked from tearing, putting anything alive on edge.

Danny felt this unwavering sense of connection and familiarity with the opening in front of him. "Sam…"

"What do you think it is?" Sam moved to Danny's side.

 _Phantom… Rose…_

A voice in the back of Danny's head called for him to enter the portal. The fiery-haired ghost child felt terror when he felt the very life of the area be sucked into the vacuum of the tearing. The spirit took a few steps forward before a small hand grabbed his.

"What are you doing?! Are you crazy?!" Sam looked at her boyfriend like he grew two heads.

Danny didn't look away, "I don't know. I think its calling us."

"Have you gone insane?! We don't know what that is or where it'll lead us!" The female ghoul looked horrified.

Danny turned around to Sam, "Sam, we're already dead! Whatever it is can't kill us much less hurt us!"

Sam watched the otherworldly, dark green energy, stuttering, "What if its hell?"

"And what if its where we're supposed to go? Then at least we'll be together." Danny's ruby orbs couldn't be any softer gazing at Sam. The female spirit watched the dark tearing before looking at Danny and nodded.

Kissing one last time, the couple walked through the tearing. The breach shimmered as the two spirits entered it before it became a vacuum for all the air in the room and imploded on itself in bright explosion of light.

All that was left was a cold freeze in the air and the leftover whispers of others. _Phantom… Rose…_


End file.
